The biggest problem comes from the old folks. Those narrow minded few whom I see when the moon is full and the sacrifice is rich on the altar. That trouble of pride, when they ask me if I have been praying for a loved one's well being. My parents lose colour from their faces, as if they've seen a bruce willis. For a split second they gain telepathy, begging me to humour the crypt-keepers. I do. It makes me sick to my stomach but it prevents a string of heart attacks.
My muslim friends (the few left who weren't turned off by my common sense) will try to kidnap me into their festivities and the ones in the religious closet will plead me to save them from their colourful nightmares.
I can deal with all of this. My life as a recluse is already on a part-time contract and I'm doing everything I can to avoid getting fired from Secluded Persons Inc©. What I'm trying to say is
Let's end on a happy note. I will definitely upload a page of the webcomic this wednesday/thursday :) . Until then, fuck you God!
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